


Warming Treats in Cold Days

by Restitutor_Orbis



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27307573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis
Summary: Leliana finds her husband in the early hours of dawn, and they share a few tender moments.
Relationships: Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Male Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 6





	Warming Treats in Cold Days

**Author's Note:**

> Is it winter time? No? Not yet? Well, I don’t give a damn. Have some wintry fluff with Amayian and Leliana as a married couple!

When Leliana peaked out from a pulled scarlet curtain, the fabric heavy but recently pressed and swipe of any shrouds of dust, she watched as stars fell, flashing silvery-white beneath the cool strands of pale sunlight, from a blanket of silvery and gray clouds. In the far distant, she could just make out the wavered small dot of the early morning sun, a disc of pearly white. Snow clamped over leafless branches, wooden arms twined in a tapestry of darken browns and glimmering whites. Darkness pooled, with slivers of gray streaked with flashes of white. Mounds of snow piled, and the once bluish-green lake near the gardens, used often for swimming, was a solid smooth ground of ice, splashes of blue and black within the white surface. For a few moments, she watched the colors trembled and twirled, as if the water underneath the lake danced freely within its frosty constrains. 

Shivering, Leliana let the curtain fall back into place, pale light cut out aburpt. But there was enough of the amber glow of torches burning in iron-wrought sconces to keep herself from tripping or getting lost. Tugging at the heavy velvet blue bathrobe, regretting not throwing on a blouse before heading out her bedchambers, Leliana began her strode toward the kitchens. At least her feet were warm, stepping on the carpets of blue and red. Before she had walked off, she let her toes flex and wiggle against the soft surface, like she was stepping on a warm summer cloud. Leliana wished that it was summer. The winters in Ostwick was unbearable, somehow even worse than the ones in Ferelden. 

The castle was quiet, the only soft whisper of the winter winds pattering against glass window panels, intersected in crosses of iron, and the low chippers from the torches. Leliana was glad that the children did not wake up yet, though she knew partly the reason why they slept so late into the night was because they spent it scavenging the castle for the secret pathways and rooms their father had hinted about. They had only found one, an ancient armory filled with swords, battleaxes, pikes, spears, and arrows. Amayian and her had only _just_ been able to put Jacqueline off learning the spear - she already had her sword-training to do. Yet the girl had as much patience as her father. Leliana was the pinnacle of patience...when it mattered. 

Shaking her head, Leliana could not keep the soft chuckle from bubbling at her chest. _Jac has heard far too many stories of us._ Especially Leliana. Amayian did not waste a moment in story time to praise Leliana’s abilities, fictional or real. The man was as stubborn as a Ferelden.

Pushing the stone doors, laced with hammered silver twined in vines and rearing stallions, Leliana found her husband in a pleasing sight.

A low hum came from the man, who’s neck was bent down, looking at something hidden from Leliana’s view. Though, what she saw was something she would never complain about, either. Scars littered the broad, muscular back, white lines that slash here and others there, some curving around over his side. Some new scratches also accompanied the old battle scars, and Leliana could not keep the small curl of her lips from rising to her face even if she had wanted to. _Battles happen on fields or by sea; others in the bedroom_. Or in Amayian and Leliana’s case, any surface they could get their hands on. A shiver crawled up her spine in memories, and warmth sparked within her limbs, knitted at her heard, before slowing seeping down between her thighs. _There will be chances like that for later._

But besides the lovely sight of her husband, a sweet scent lingered in the air, alongside warmth that caused already blossomed goosebumps to riddle further down her arms and back. The scent caused her smile to grow, lapsing, if not for a moment, the desire into the back of her mind. She trod gently up to her husband, his great size dwarfing her even more so without the help of her shoes. 

Arms wrapped around a wide waist, the roughness of scars and the tautness of skins contrasting well with the warmth rolling off him, like some beating fire within a furnace. Amayian never seemed to be touched by the changing of seasons, be it warmth or cold. His body always adapted, but for Leliana, she preferred when he was warm. Her body felt always safe with his unending warmness, and his strong arms around her. She felt small compared to him when she did the same, but she tightened her muscles and nuzzled her face into his back, taking in his earthy scent, touched with something warm, alive; a fire within the liveliness of woods. 

A chuckle came from her husband. “Good morning to you, as well, _ma cherie_.” She could hear the smile upon his lips. 

When she glanced up, one eyelid lifting lazily open, she saw Amayian glance over her shoulder, down at her. Golden eyes burned with a touch of scarlet, like flaming morning sunlight capture in pools. A soft rustle and clatter came from beyond her vision, and Amayian turned as easily as a flow of air, smooth and swift. Heavy, muscular arms wrapped around her, a large hand tipping her head back, before soft lips met hers in a gentle molding and graze. A sigh left her lips before she could stop herself, but Amayian’s were gone as swiftly as fall. Leliana could not keep the pout from her lips. 

Amayian’s lips were just a shadow of a smile, a mere twerk of the corner of his lips. There was a hunger within Leliana to kiss those lips again, especially the small scar that cut his upper lip. “Tease,” murmured Leliana, softly, but her fingers began to trace the curves and lines of his muscles, and the gentle bumps of his scars over his back. “Good morning.”

His smile grew, and Leliana’s heart ached, beating with affections she once had to keep so hidden and locked away. Now it flourished like a flower in spring, petals flaring out in a need-filled embrace. One of her hands lifted away from his back, raked through the chest hair and over the long jagged scar crossing from his right shoulder down to his left side of his hips - she stopped for a moment to lay a kiss at it - before cupping a chiseled jaw, the scruff of a beard tickling her palm as her thumb roamed gently over the edge of a cheekbone. His dark black hair came in waves, curling at the tips, a little passed his shoulders. Peppers of gray touched his temples. Save for the darkness bagged underneath his eyes, he seemed younger in a way, despite the graying hair. He always looked younger when he smiled, far less severe.

A few moments passed, brown-touched blue eyes meeting scarlet-splashed golden eyes, the calling of flame and wind edged away into near silence. The world bleed away. There was only them, safe and happy and alive. 

Leliana stepped on her tip-toes, hands resting on his broad shoulders, and kissed the center where the scar lashed over the skin above his heart. “What are you doing?”

Another chuckle, though this one was touched with shyness. That only caused Leliana to raise her eyebrow. Amayian turned away from her, stepping to the side, and Leliana’s other rested eyebrow lifted alongside the other. Surprise filled her. 

Before her were eight silver cups with steam weaving thinly overhead, beneath twirls of some white cream that thinned at a point at the end. “Hot chocolate?” And beside that were platters of sweets, some Orlesian in origins, others in Ferelden or Ostwickan; a few were crusted in white glaze, others dripped with chocolate and crowned with strawberries. Leliana glanced at her husband, smiling. “This is what you’ve been up to the entire morning?”

Amayian nodded, his smile never wavering. It never seem to waver when it came to Leliana or the children. Leliana’s heart was touched with that, the desire before slipping away into something softer, sweeter. _He is far too good for me_. Regardless of how many times Amayian denied it, Leliana knew it to be true. _Stop it. No need to be a downer, not now. He is yours. Be thankful for that._ And she was, more thankful than she was had been in her life. Sometimes, however, it felt as if she was unworthy of any affection Amayian gave her. _Enough this, you foolish girl.  
_

Once more, she stepped on her toes to press a kiss on his chin. She was too short to give him one on his cheek. Amayian laughed at that, and bent down, pressing a light kiss to her lips that made her breathless, her mind numb, emptying of all thoughts besides the feel of Amayian against her; of only Amayian. “Go ahead, have some hot chocolate. It’s an old family recipe,” said her husband - _her_ husband. How long would it take for her to stop being so giddy at that? - in a low murmur, like the deep echoes of a cavern beneath a mountain. 

Leliana pressed against him, his warmth ebbing away the cold, as she reached a hand to grasp the handle of the tea cup. It was silver wrought, with lines of gold twined in elaborate loops which encircled around the sides and rim. Leliana lifted it to her lips, felt the ticklish of the white cream against her upper lip, and than the sudden rush of warmth dancing with the coolness of the cream. Her body shivered. It was just sweet enough to get her addicted, truth be told. When she pulled away, inhaling a sharp of breath that seemed cool in comparison to the drink, Leliana said, “Delicious.”

Amayian’s lifted his own cup, a smirk twerked at his lips. “You now have a mustache, my dear.” 

Leliana blinked, raising a finger to upper lift, and a smear of something went over it. She glanced at the white fluffy cream, and giggled. “I suppose I do.” She licked it and smiled. “That too is delicious. Did you make all of this yourself?”

Amayian said nothing, eyes trained on the licked finger, a hint of blush on his cheeks. Leliana smirked at the realization of what she had just done, but Amayian quickly regained his ground with a cough into his hand, and a slow drink of his own drink. “Yes. It took me a while, though you tried it once, you had tried it one thousand times in my family.” He sipped at his coffee again, a white glaze splattered over his own black mustache. He dabbed at it with a napkin. “Let’s get this settled for the kids. I have one last surprise.” 

Leliana’s eyebrow rose again, and watched as the platters that contained the cups of hot chocolate and sweets lifted into the air, trailing behind Amayian, as he wrapped his arm around Leliana’s waist and began walking to the living room. 

They enjoyed the quiet as they made their way toward the room. When the doors opened without any physical effort, Leliana was alarmed by the transformation. 

The once neat room, with high-backed wooden chairs, with cushions of soft velvet, long walls trailed with books in bookshelves, and a marble hearth blazed with fire had been turned into a winter wonderland. Snow fell light and gentle onto blankets of white, some where mounds rose in a gentle lift. Trees of fire twined with branches of scarlet and gold and violet and azure. Ribbons of light danced high into the air, in the currents of winds, some shivering out into a constellation, be it man or dragon or griffin, before returning into those streaming stars. Their couch had been moved, facing away from the fire, toward this great snow-filled play of lights and flame.

Amayian walked toward the coach, the snow never once seeping into itself in the shape of a footprint, and she did her best not to disturb it as well. As they placed the platters and plates onto a table made of ice, with curve legs, and with flaming tendrils playing about underneath in a dance of shadow and light, Amayian drew her close, and onto the couch. Leliana let herself grow limp against her husband, cuddling close as she rose her feet onto the coach, resting it to the side of her body. She still held her cup of hot chocolate in her hand, as did Amayian. Neither of them said anything for a while, taking in the display wrought by her husband. “It’s beautiful.”

“You are,” said Amayian, and when Leliana looked up, she saw that his gaze had never been on the display, but on Leliana. She could feel color rising to her cheeks, but so did the smile on her lips which grew. 

“You’re a fool of a man, you know that?” She had not remembered when a sudden shirt appeared over him. No doubt he had twined snow into one, magically. Amayian had been discovering new ways to use magic with his cousin. Their striking progress at times worried her. But not know. She did missed the sight of him without one, however. In any case, she will see it later. 

“You do make me foolish when you smile.”

“That was _terrible_.” She could not keep herself from giggling, however, before snuggling up closer to her husband, who’s chest vibrated with mirth. 

Amayian kissed the top of her head, his arm around her. Warmth surrounded Leliana like armor. “You know I was never good at this.”

“You’ve gotten better over the yours.” She patted his chest. “Though, that was not your greatest performance.” _And you always had your own charm about you._ It was one of the many reasons why she fell in love with the man. 

Amayian hummed, and than turned back to stare at his own creation. “Do you think the children will like it? I don’t want them getting sick, so it will not be good for them to go outside. And-”

Leliana rushed up, kissing the man into silence. “Amayian,” said Leliana firmly, but with fondness that she could not keep away from her voice. “They’ll love it.”

Amayian’s smile was sheepish when she pulled away, that shyness mingling with the concern of a father. “You’re right.” He took a deep breath, eyelids fluttering close for the briefest of moments. “You’re right.”

Leliana hummed as she kissed his cheek, before nuzzling her face into his chest, watching as a ribbon of orange flame twirl into a flying raven, bursting into amber leaves that were carried by the unfeeling winds. Amayian’s breath came steady, soft, content. “At least take the few moments before your handwork is destroy, _ma amour._ “ Leliana leaned forward and sneaked a star-shaped chocolates-coated pastry into her hand and mouth. “I will, at least.”

Amayian laughed, and Leliana swore it was the lovilest sound she could ever hear. He never laughed when he was younger, not even as Inquisitor. It touched more to see him so calm, especially around her; as she was around him. 

Maybe she did not deserve him - by the Maker, she really did not - but he was as stubborn as a Ferelden stallion, and he was sooner allow himself be corrupted by the Taint than leave her. Truly, she did not deserve him, his smiles, his laughter, his love. But if she held it in a delicate hold, than she will cherish it. It was a promise she made so long ago to the portrait of his mother, and its a promise she will continue to hold until the sun died out and the moon was swallowed into shadow and the oceans dried and turned to mud. He was her flame, and she was his.


End file.
